Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Trinidad & Tobago and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Lizzy Mercier Descloux to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Terrestrial Tones. All the underground hits.
All Second Layer tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Walker Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smoke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ponytail,
The Alarm Clocks,
Radio Birdman,
The Misunderstood,
The Grass Roots,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Skaos,
Reagan Youth,
Jeru the Damaja,
Kerrie Biddell,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Fortunes,
The Slackers,
Derrick May,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Sound,
Camberwell Now,
Amon Düül,
Animal Collective,
Marcia Griffiths,
Tres Demented,
Kenny Larkin,
Kerri Chandler,
John Cale,
Sarah Menescal,
The Monks,
Ossler,
Barclay James Harvest,
Graham Central Station,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Scott Walker,
The Skatalites,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Mojo Men,
The Remains,
Livin' Joy,
Sun Ra,
Matthew Bourne,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Neon Judgement,
Avey Tare,
The Victims,
Gastr Del Sol,
Godley & Creme,
Tubeway Army,
Brand Nubian,
Joe Smooth,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Magma,
Yaz,
Flash Fearless,
Sparks,
UT,
The Durutti Column,
Sam Rivers,
Theoretical Girls,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Peter and Kerry,
Drexciya,
Liliput,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Brass Construction,
E-Dancer, E-Dancer, E-Dancer, E-Dancer.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.